My Sad Heart
That morning unlike others I
was awakened by the sound of
the telephone ringing
who on earth I thought
crawling out to answer it I'm
not the talking kind never
have been never will be today
I only had to listen my
brother Bob also not the talking kind said
Dad has died! What!
my short reply
Dad is dead I think he said ambulance
will soon be here I
tried to bring him back but
there was no response can
you come right away
So driving down the motorway
same motorway my father helped to build with
concrete all around and
my brothers concrete words inside
my head Dad has died things
he touched are here
but he has gone lives
he touched are still here
but he has gone
the man with more feeling than anyone I
ever knew is now not feeling anything
just numb to all family friends
brothers sisters my mother gone
to him from this moment but
he is still with us everywhere
even on this motorway with
concrete all around and
in my sad heart
poem by Ron Knight

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Motorway
Motorway food is the worst in the world,
Youve never eaten food like youve eaten on the motorway.
Motorway food is the worst in the world,
The coffee tastes weak and the cakes taste stale
And gasoline fumes are the worst to inhale,
Your stomach rolls over and your face turns pale.
Oh, that motorway livin,
Aint it a thrill to be so free, yeh.
Riding down the motorway,
Got to charge up my batteries,
Rest my seat, rest my eyes,
So tired, tired of livin, tired of livin this motorway livin.
Motorway tea is warm and wet,
The rain is a pouring and its four in the morning,
And its all I can get.
Youve never seen loos like motorway loos,
Thousands of people passing through,
Its enough to put you off of your motorway food.
Oh that motorway living,
Aint it a thrill to be so free, yeh.
Got to get away from
Cats eyes, cold meat pies,
Thousand on raft, cold french fries
So tired, tired of livin, tired of livin this motorway livin.
Motorway food is invariably fried,
It keeps me and feeds me and helps me survive.
Oh that motorway, aint it a thrill to be so free, yeh,
Riding down the motorway, cats eyes, cold meat pies
Thousand on raft, cold french fries,
So tired, tired of livin, tired of livin this motorway livin.
Motorway food is the worst in the world,
Youll never eat food like youve eaten on the motorway.
Motorway food is the worst in the world.
My stomachs upset and I dont feel well,
Gotta get my head down, stop for a while in a motorway hotel.
Mama oh mama, my dear suzi too,
This motorway message is sent just for you.
My headaches improved but my back really hurts,
I never thought Id travel so far to work.
song performed by by Kinks

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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William House and Family
Come all kind friends, both far and near,
Come listen to me and you shall hear --
It's of a family and their fate,
All about them I will relate.
They once did live at Edgerton,
They once did live at Muskegon,
From there they went to Chicago,
Which proved their fatal overthrow.
It was William House's family,
As fine a family as you see --
His family was eleven in all,
I do not think it was very small.
Two children died some years ago,
Before they went to Chicago,
Five children there he had with him,
When death his home there enters in.
The small-pox then was raging there,
And Oh! it would not their house spare,
For all but one was sick of them,
A dreadful house it must have been.
The eldest girl was married then,
The eldest boy was in Michigan,
The second boy he was at home,
And took care of them all alone.
His father and his mother dear,
And dear sister, too, I hear,
Were very sick and in his care,
And no kind friends to help him there:
Two little brothers, and a baby too,
Made six in all -- what could he do,
He had to take care of them all,
The baby, too, was very small.
As he would go to his father's bed,
And try to soothe his aching head,
"My son, I pray you leave me, do
Go take care of poor mother, too."
"Your mother and sister need your care,
And your little infant brother there;
Oh! Charlie, Charlie, take care of them,
My son, do all for them you can."
It seemed as though he did not know
That his poor soul so soon must go,
And leave his little ones he loved,
To go to that bright world above.
But God he called his soul away,
It had to leave, it could not stay --
He never more on earth will be,
His soul is from sin and sorrow free.
Charles helped the sexton, I am told,
To lay his form in the coffin cold --
How sad, how sad, poor soul was he,
When last his father's form did see.
Minnie May House she had to go,
And leave her friends that loved her so --
She was a girl in her teens,
A lovely flower as e'er was seen.
Minnie and her mother lay on one bed,
And when Charles said, "our Minnie is dead,"
His mother then she did grow wild,
And early after knew her child.
They buried Minnie by her father's side,
And left them there where they had died --
Charles took his mother and brothers then
And brought them back to Michigan.
For the mother and the baby too,
Kind friends did all that they could do,
But those poor souls they could not save,
For now they're sleeping in their grave.
Oh! what a noble son was he,
His age was then only sixteen --
Charles House's name I have told before
God bless his soul forever more.
poem by Julia A Moore

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Brothers
Lets get to the point now
Just because weve got the same mum and dad
That dont mean im your keeper
That dont mean I owe anything to you
You dont care for me
And man I dont think that much of you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you
You drove my car when we were young boys
And you tore it up too
You never paid to get it fixed
And you got me beat up a time or two
I know I should forgive and forget
But man I still hold a grudge against you
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
I dont approve of anything you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Cain and abel and me and you
It is as normal as it can be
This sibling rivalry
We should have dropped it at 22
But man I cant stand the things you do
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Youre always want something from me
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
It was so much fun having you in the family
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Now that were grown it aint helped nothin? at all
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
On my birthday, please dont bother to call
Cause were brothers brothers brothers
Brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, youre my brother brother brother
Brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, were brothers brothers brothers
Yeah, were brothers brothers brothers
Brothers brothers brothers
song performed by by John Mellencamp

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Concrete Girl
Bleeding thoughts.
Cracking boulder.
Don't fall over.
Fake your laughter.
Burn the tear.
Sing it louder.
Twist and shout.
Way up here,
We stand on shoulders,
Growing colder.
Laugh or cry.
I won't mind.
Sing it louder.
Twist and shout.
Immovable shadows.
The concrete girl.
They'll rock your world to nothing.
And they're swimming around again, again.
And they're swimming around
The concrete girl.
Catch your breath like a four-leaf clover.
Hand it over.
Scream to no one.
Take your time.
Sing it louder.
Twist and shout.
Nothing to run from is worse than something,
And all your fears of nothing.
And they're swimming around again, again.
And they're swimming around
The concrete girl.
Concrete girl, don't fall down
In this broken world around you.
Concrete girl, don't fall down.
Don't fall down, my concrete girl.
Don't stop thinking.
Don't stop feeling now.
One step away from where we were,
And one step back to nothing.
And we're standing on top of our hopes and fears,
And we're fighting for words now, concrete girl.
And we're swimming around again, again.
And we're swimming around now,
Concrete girl.
Concrete girl, don't fall down in this broken world around you.
Concrete girl, don't fall down.
Don't fall down, my concrete girl.
Concrete girl, don't fall down in this concrete world around you.
Concrete girl, don't fall down.
Don't break down, my concrete girl.
song performed by by Switchfoot

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Concrete Forest
Gang banging
Street banging
Concrete Forest—
People dying
Children crying
Bullets flying
No remorse for the fallen—
Crack smoking
Prostitute selling
Cops stinging
Benefactors of trouble times—
Blood
Guts—inside body parts
Cultivate the Concrete Forest—
I see a mother kneeling
A priest praying
A child victimize—a father convicted
All within the Concrete Forest—
Sirens blowing
Lights flashing
Someone else dying
In the Concrete Forest—
Mercy on us
Compassion for us
Deliver us
From the Concrete Forest—
Restore our hope
Destroy the trepidation
Breathe life back into Concrete Forest—
It is time to go
My time is gone
My nightmares—relinquished
Within the Concrete Forest—
No more worrisome days
No more stressful nights
Freedom has come to me
In the Concrete Forest—
My freedom is now
Your comes later
But, not in this Concrete Forest—
Written by
Gregory E Upshaw
poem by Gregory Upshaw

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He Was My Brother
He was my brother
Five years older than I
He was my brother
Twenty-three years old the day he died
Freedom writer
They cursed my brother to his face
Go home outsider
This town's gonna be your buryin' place
He was singin' on his knees
An angry mob trailed along
They shot my brother dead
Because he hated what was wrong
He was my brother
Tears can't bring him back to me
He was my brother
And he died so his brothers could be free
He died so his brothers could be free
song performed by by Simon & Garfunkel

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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This concrete city
infects the sky...turning it
into concrete too.
Concrete sun and concrete rain.
Concrete humans... cry...real tears
tanka by Dónall Dempsey

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Christmas Portrait
When we were teenagers
We went through a mean age
We think we know just what you mean
We were typical siblings
With plenty of quibblings
I think we can sing you this scene
Big brothers are supposed to be smart
So how come they act so dumb?
Big brothers are supposed to have feelings
But most of the time they're numb
When we're looking for heroes
We usually find a clown
We're supposed to look up at them
So how come we're looking down?
(*) big brother are supossed to be nice
So how come they act like nerds?
Setting an awful example
Using x-rated words; they're really gross
We diagnosis them right for the local shrink
Big brothers,
Big brothers are not as big as they think
Nag, nag, nag, nag!
Aren't they the worst? the worst!
(**) kid sisters, where do they get all the dumbness from?
She just won't leave alone, always tagging after me
What a bummer, i don't get no privacy
Kid sisters, who do you think baby-sits?
Hey mister, don't you agree it's the pits?
We deserve some kind of loving cup
Kid sisters, when ya gonna grow up?
Oh yeah (yeah) wanna fight? (yeah)
Repeat (*) and (**) at the same time
But that was yesterday! (yesterday)
And today (and today) we can say (we can say)
That as the number ends (as it ends)
We're what every sister and brother should hopefully be
The very best of friends!
song performed by by Carpenters

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plastic & Concrete
Plastic & concrete, baby
These are the facts of life
I 'm a nightmare child
Stuck on my own knife
I' m glad my mother loved me
I' m sick & paranoid
The hotel generater
Hums into the void
Of plastic & concrete
Plastic & concrete, baby
I gotta learn to slow down
Somethin new from chemistry
Is jackin my brain around
I have got the plastic
And i have got the stone
Out there in the suburbs
I learned to be alone
In plastic & concrete
Plastic & concrete sandwich
You 'd like to eat me, but
Later you 'll reiect me
I' m too much to bite off
The salad on my outside
Is made of suicide
The guy who squirts my mayonnaise
Is on a one-way ride
In plastic & concrete
Plastic & concrete
song performed by by Iggy Pop

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Plastic Concrete
Plastic & concrete, baby
These are the facts of life
I m a nightmare child
Stuck on my own knife
I m glad my mother loved me
I m sick & paranoid
The hotel generater
Hums into the void
Of plastic & concrete
Plastic & concrete, baby
I gotta learn to slow down
Somethin new from chemistry
Is jackin my brain around
I have got the plastic
And I have got the stone
Out there in the suburbs
I learned to be alone
In plastic & concrete
Plastic & concrete sandwich
You d like to eat me, but
Later you ll reiect me
I m too much to bite off
The salad on my outside
Is made of suicide
The guy who squirts my mayonnaise
Is on a one-way ride
In plastic & concrete
Plastic & concrete
song performed by by Iggy Pop

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Concrete Bed
Why is he there
too wasted to think
on a bed of concrete;
he needs one more drink.
Over night in jail
his punishment be
found crawling the streets
on bended knee.
He feels like a fool
the warden shakes his head
he was embarrassed and unclean
on a concrete bed.
He tossed and turned
till the new morn
with his face in his hands
cursed the day he was born.
Bail was posted
a fool took a chance
he’s a no good drunk
you can tell with one glance.
He’ll be back soon
on this concrete bed
with alcohol the culprit
he’ll wish he was dead.
poem by Mimie Durand

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Talkin Talkin
Talking, talking
It doesnt really matter
If you know my name
It doesnt really matter
If you see things the same
As I do
It doesnt even matter
If Im tied and tense
It doesnt even matter
If Im still making sense
Over you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
Talking, talking
It doesnt matter
What the people
All around you say
Be careful how
You listen
They dont know you
The way that I do
And if you wanna
Talk about it baby
Thats alright
Its better if I say it
Than to sit down
And write it to you
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Cos Im only talking, talking
It can be that
Youre here with me
When Im standing out
On my own
The words of love
That you gage
When we were alone
It doesnt matter
If you want to
Rock and roll all night
I know youre gonna
Be there when the
Feeling is right
The feeling is right
The feeling is right
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
Im just talking, talking
Talkin, talking
You know Im just
Talking, talking, talking, talking
song performed by by Moody Blues

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Concrete Mind
Can I get a pass, from my wrongs?
Will you make me not forget?
Are you like a concrete mind,
That's permanently set?
Concrete mind won't wear out.
For when she has a crack.
She only fills in where it's split.
Your wrongs she'll always track.
I thought I would be honest
Lead a new way of life
To concrete mind this is a weapon
She'll use just like a knife
She'll just use it against you
You'll never live it down
Her life is like a circus
And you're the lonely clown
And when you try to fix
The things that have been broken
Concrete mind will take your wrongs
And use them like a token
Where did I go wrong you'll ask
In each and every way
So if you trip and stumble
Concrete mind will say:
“Go straight to jail,
Do not pass go
Be ashamed
You are so low
Just like scum,
You always rise
All of your truths
To me their lies
You past is now
You'll never change
Forgiveness a word
I find so strange
I will forgive
But not forget
My heart is hard
My mind is set
Show you mercy?
Show you grace?
Go find those things
Another place.
All you give.
I'll simply take.
I'll do this till,
Your will I break”
Concrete mind
Will you soften a bit?
I've tried so hard,
But I want to quit.
Like one step forward
And Ten steps back
You throw me a rope
Without any slack
Concrete mind
Can't you see
From your concrete prison
I can't break free
So concrete mind
I ask one last time
Will I ever pay the price
For my past crimes
Your concrete heart
Your concrete mind
Won't let me leave
My past behind
poem by Ryan Lee Morris

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John Robinson
AIR -- "The Drunkard"
Come listen, friends, and hear a song,
It is a doleful one,
About a young man, dead and gone --
He died far away from home.
John Robinson this young man's name,
His age I cannot tell,
And he was loved by all his friends,
And he was known full well.
His father and mother being dead,
It left him an orphan boy,
When he was with his brother
His health failed him, poor boy.
Kind friends they thought 'twould do him good
To travel for his health;
To California he did go
With his Uncle Zera French.
He was not gone but a short time
When a letter his friends received;
It told how homesick Johnny was,
How he for home did grieve.
It said that he was getting worse,
And his money was nearly gone,
And if he did not soon return
Never more would he see home.
It said, "Dear Brother, will you please
Some money to me send,
For I fear I have not got enough
To bring me back again.
The doctor says I must soon return,
If I wish my home to see,
For if I stay my life is short,
For the air disagrees with me."
His brother Will the letter read,
It made his eyes grow dim.
"Dear brother, he shall soon return,
For I will go and fetch him."
This brother dear was very kind;
With money, he went with haste
For to bring him home again,
But Oh! he went too late.
For he was sick, and very bad --
Poor boy, he thought, no doubt,
If he came home in a smoking car
His money would hold out.
He started to come back alone --
He came one-third the way --
One evening in the car alone
His spirit fled away.
No friend was near to speak to him,
Or hear his dying moan;
How sad, how sad it must have been
To die there all alone;
No loving friends to soothe his brow,
Or ease his weary form;
Poor soul, poor soul is now at rest,
For his soul to heaven has gone.
Telegraph dispatch was sent his friends --
How sad were they to hear --
How their loved one died all alone,
In a car with no one near.
The brother brought his body home
To his friends that loved him best.
He's sleeping in their grave yard now
Let peace be e'er his rest.
poem by Julia A Moore

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He Was My Brother
He was my brother
Five years older than I
He was my brother
Twenty-three Years old the day he died
Freedom writer
They cursed my brother to his face
Go home outsider
This town's gonna be your buryin' place
He was singin' on his knees
An angry mob trailed along
They shot my brother dead
Because he hated what was wrong
He was my brother
Tears can't bnng him back to me
He was my brother
And he died so his brothers could be free
He died so his brothers could be free
song performed by by Paul Simon

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tampa
Tampa from those whom sent him,
the back section of their house.
The letter which is written never.
Each judge of his who reads.
Read long in the concrete box.
To be long it has died in remainder,
but because of a certain in order to short-circuit,
excessively why he would know.
There was and his et. al
above everything to they was there lie.
And From Tampa
They Sent him away,
never but always back home.
Letters never written.
Each Judge clever breed.
Reading in a long concrete box.
Too long to be dead
To short too know why.
The kicker
and theirs
Was my lye.
poem by Is It Poetry

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A Place To Sit
Smoochers and snoggers, and resting joggers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Ramblers and walkers, and street hawkers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Mini’s and Roller’s, and lady strollers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Old folk and young folk, and dogs with no folk
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Market traders and cavers, and money savers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Children that play who meet everyday
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Students and teachers, and lay preachers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Loose women and boys the ‘for sale’ toys
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Addicts and dealers, and police squealers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Dogs out for a pee who can’t find a tree
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Drunks in the night who like to fight
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Spray painters and doodlers, and bench abusers
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Vandals and hooligans, and booted ruffians
all seem to stop at this concrete bench.
Demolishers and breakers, and obliterators
never stopped until they destroyed this concrete bench.
poem by Orlando Belo

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The Rose That Grew From Concrete (credits to Tupac)
The Rose that grew from concrete
Still beautiful in every form
Its stem is strong and sturdy
Although some petals have been torn
The petals could be tears
As it struggled to get through
The fight was rough and fierce
The weight was something new
For no other rose
Had ever gone through this road
It was given a path less traveled
It was given a tremendous load
But the rose began to grow
To everybody’s surprise
Nobody ever thought
From the concrete it would rise
Through the concrete it continued
Getting roughed up as it grew
Gaining valuable experience
Learning things it never knew
Its perseverance led to strength
As it broke through the cracks
It knew it had come this far
Why bother to look back
But the dues paid to get here
Are sometimes to be admired
It shows the character and heart
And the strength of its desire
After fighting for so long
It finally reached the light of day
It was then it knew
It didn’t want it any other way
For all of the characteristics of this rose
Have led it to persevere
The journey was dark and troublesome
But the effort was sincere
Along the way there were moments
What its mind was full of doubt
Times it had to dig deep
If it ever wanted to sprout
Now in full blossom
The rose looks back at its struggle
It beams bright with pride
For overcoming its troubles
The rose that grew from concrete
Powerful and pure
Beautiful yet rugged
After everything endured
The rose that grew from concrete
Certainly one of a kind
Love growing in the heart
Memories etched in the mind
The rose that grew from concrete
At last standing in peace
Forever living in glory
As the battle has now ceased
poem by Jose Chavez

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Words of Concrete
Hard as rock
Breaking effortlessly
These words of concrete
Break right through me
Shattering all that has left
And of my heart what there was to be
Taking the beats away from my heart
With just these words of concrete
Breaking me apart
I stand their waiting for decades
Supported by my trembling feet
Just because I Can’t bare these words of concrete…
poem by Laiba Shams

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The Concrete and the Abstract
The concrete is visible,
the abstract is invisible.
The concrete is the outside,
the abstract is the inside.
The concrete is objective,
the abstract is subjective.
People go on searching for
God in the concrete.
'We would like to see God'
-they say.
But only the concrete can be seen;
the abstract has to be felt.
The concrete can be seen-
with the eyes open,
the abstract has to be seen-
with eyes closed.
God is inside you, as you.
You cannot stand outside God
and see Him;
you can see Him
only from the inside-
by being Him.
If you see a flower,
you can look at it scientifically.
You look at the chemistry of it,
You dissect it and
you come to know
about the components of it.
But something is missed
in that very analysis.
The beauty is missed,
because beauty is not a component.
If you ask the scientist -
'Where is the beauty that was in the flower? ’ he will say-
'That was not there,
it was just an illusion.'
'I have dissected it-
all and all,
and these are the things
that I have found.
These chemicals were there,
this matter was there,
these atoms, these molecules....
but there was no beauty.'
But when the scientist
gives the flower to his wife,
he knows deep within his heart
he is not giving her
something chemical,
He is giving to her
the beauty of the flower.
A poet said -
'Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder',
But I say it lies in the heart of the lover.
That beauty is not be seen,
it has to be felt,
not from the outside,
but from the inside
by being the flower itself.
poem by Nazmul Haque

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